Normal, Plain, Divergent
by Herondale-Lightwood
Summary: Divergent in modern day! Everyone has mundane, normal lives… or do they? Both Tris and Four are older than in the books, Tris being 18, Four being 21. (Shh I know my summary sucks. And my titles. Deal with it. Modern AU)


I sigh as I shrink into the corner. Christina had dragged me all the way to this club and then abandoned me on the dance floor. I'd gone through a lot of trouble to convince my parents to let me come here. I had argued that it wasn't far from home, and I could probably walk home if all else failed. I would've argued that I was 18, and they couldn't stop me anyway, but they'd relented. I'd had a fairly good time so far, but that was when I had Christina to talk to and dance with. While I was trying to make conversation with someone else though, Christina disappeared on the dance floor. I had decided it wasn't worth it to try and find her in the mass of bodies. I'm getting a headache anyway. But I don't want to abandon Christina completely. Maybe some air will help. I decide to step into the alley for a few minutes, then hopefully I will have more motivation to find Christina.  
I make my way to the back. There's a short hallway between the bathroom doors with a door leading outside at the end. Just before I make my escape to the hall though, someone steps in front of me.  
"Well, well, well," says the man. I take a step back and look up at him. I vaguely recognize him from school. I can't recall his name, but I know he's always picking a fight and taunting anyone at any chance he gets. "Look who it is. The little pea." I scowl at the nickname, and realize the boy in front of me is Peter. We'd gone to the same school since elementary, and within the first week he'd given me the awful nickname, 'Pea'. It stemmed from the part of my name that I'd dropped: Bea. Apparently to Peter it had sounded like pea, and it fit for my size. Peter was constantly out to get me, in every class we'd been in together he would torment me. I'd figured out it was because I always had better test scores than him. He was way too competitive. He sat behind me once in class, and had cut off a large piece of my hair. I'd punched him, but it'd been weak and probably barely left a bruise. I had vowed to make sure I was at least able to throw a punch after that. Lucky for me, this year I didn't have any classes with him. I cross my arms and glare up at him.  
"What do you want," I ask flatly. He ignores me.  
"Drew, Molly, come check it out! What a stroke of luck!" He calls over his shoulder. Crap. I know I could probably have gotten away from Peter, but all three of them?  
"What do you want?" I ask, louder this time. Peter turns back towards me, smirking.  
"I was wondering what a little, defenseless shrimp like you was doing here," He waves his hands, gesturing to the club in general. "Not the safest place, hm?" I roll my eyes and turn to walk away, back into the club. His hand catches my arm and I stiffen.  
"Where do you think you're going? We weren't done talking." Peter says threateningly.  
"You weren't. I was." I answer and he glares at me. "I'm not afraid of you."  
"You should be," he hisses. He continues, louder. "Why don't we get some air, you look a little pale." He tries to pull me down the hall, but I stand where I am and yank my arm out of his grasp. My fists clench and I grit my teeth.  
"No thank you." I say stiffly, turning away. But I'd forgotten about Drew and Molly, who block my path now. Before I can react Peter has one of my arms and Molly the other, Drew walking behind us to block anyone's view. I try to yell, but there's a hand in the way. I bite down on it and hear Peter yell, then feel a sharp pain in my head as he hits it, hard. I'm too stunned to yell again, and soon there's a piece of cloth stuffed in my mouth, Peter's hand over it. I gag, at the lack of air and the smell of the gag- which I realize is probably a sock- and struggle, but it's useless. Three against one would've been bad enough, even if they weren't so large and I wasn't so small. We reach the alley and the door clicks definitively shut behind us. I hold back a whimper. No hope of anyone seeing us now. This is so bad. I can see the headlines now, '18 Year Old Killed Mysteriously in Alleyway'.  
I'm dragged to the end of the alley, which takes them a while, due to my constant efforts to kick or lash out at them. But I'm not winning. I'm pinned against the brick wall, Peter in front of me stepping on my feet and pinning my wrists to the brick. I spit out the sock that had served as a gag and catch my breath. Molly and Drew have moved back, but not far. I try to move, but, again, it's useless. I stop struggling, trying to save my energy and hoping for an opportunity to get free from his grip.  
"What do you want!" I yell at Peter, glancing around, trying to find anything I could use as a weapon if I'm able to break his grasp.  
"I want you to stop being a stupid little bitch," Peter says, scarily calm. I try pulling my wrist away again, but fail.  
"That doesn't make any sense," I reply honestly. Peter changes his grip suddenly. His arm leans against my neck, depriving my air. My left hand's free, and I try to pry his arm off my neck, raking my nails through his skin. He doesn't flinch, just presses harder. I'm running out of breath fast.  
"Shut it." He says, annoyed. "You know what you did." I try and come up with something I might have done that would piss Peter off, but nothing comes to mind. And if it did, it wouldn't matter, I can't talk without air.  
"Don't fight it," I hear him say. Spots are beginning to cloud my vision and I stop grabbing his arm and searching for something to hit him with. It's a dark alley, there has to be something. And luckily there was. My fingers brush against something cool, metal, round. I inch it towards me and wrap my hand around it, hoping that even though I am about to pass out, my hit will be strong enough to stop him. I get a good grip and swing with as much force as I can manage. I feel the improvised weapon, which I assumed is a broken pipe, connect. Peter doesn't make a sound as he falls to the ground at my feet. I collapse against the wall, sucking air into my lungs in relief as I cough. That was way too close. "Hey!" Molly. I'd forgotten about Drew and her. Again. I blink to clear my vision and take a deep breath. I stand straightly and wield my pipe like a baseball bat.  
"Leave." I threaten. "Now." Molly practically growls and throws herself at me with a screech. I swing the pipe but she ducks. I was ready for her though, and I jump to the side to avoid colliding with her. She can't stop her momentum though, and runs into the wall. It barely affects her, and she turns again and comes at me. I aim for her stomach this time, so she can't duck under the pipe. She doesn't expect it, and reels back, winded. I take the opportunity to kick, and she falls backwards, further towards the street. She stands slowly and scowls at me. Before she can come at me again though, she's down, knocked out. For a moment I'm confused, then I look up from her collapsed body. A guy with dark brown hair stands behind Molly's collapsed body. Behind him I can make out Drew on the ground, also most likely unconscious. Even though it's dark, I can tell he's muscular. He puts his hands up as he walks towards me.  
"You alright?" He asks, sounding concerned.  
"I could've handled it." I say accusingly. He almost smiles.  
"I know. I just thought you might come out less injured with a little help." He replies. I realize I'm still holding the pipe. I hesitate, but toss it to the side and sigh.  
"Well, thanks, I guess. Why'd you come out here anyway?" I ask, curious. If he'd seen us before, why didn't he stop it earlier? Is he looking for a fight too?  
"I usually exit this way." He says, shrugging. "Less of a crowd to pass through."  
"Okay then…" I trail off, not sure if I believe him.  
"I'm Four," he introduces.  
"Tris." I reply. "What kind of a name is Four?"  
"It's a nickname. Maybe I'll tell you some time." He replies with a laugh.  
"How do you know you're ever going to see me again?" I ask, crossing my arms and glaring halfheartedly.  
"A guess. A hope maybe." He says, shrugging again. I don't reply. "Do you want me to walk you home or to your car or something?" I hesitate. Christina probably won't care if I leave, at this point she'd probably assumed I already had.  
"I think I'll be okay, thanks." I reply, not moving. I still don't know this guy, and I feel a little safer with the metal pipe close enough to reach. Just in case.  
"Okay, that's fine." He shrugs. What's with this guy and shrugging? "Can I watch you until you leave the alley at least? I don't want one of these freaks waking up and taking you by surprise." He nods to the three bodies on the ground, at least two unconscious. I wasn't sure if I'd hit hard enough to kill Peter, but I could hope. I shrug and say, "I can't really stop you I guess." He does that almost smile again and steps away, leaning next to the door to the bar, giving me space to walk by. I pick my way past Molly and Drew and begin walking down the alley to the street. I'm almost to the street when I feel a hand catch my wrist, gently. I turn and see Four.  
"Hey, Tris?" He says.  
"Yeah?" I ask quietly, startled by how close he is all of a sudden.  
"Be careful." He says after a moment of hesitation. I nod and he releases my wrist. I could've pulled away, I realize, but I didn't want to. He clears his throat and nods, then turns and walks briskly down the street, the opposite direction that I need to go. I wonder for a moment what that was about, what he meant exactly and why he said it. Then I shake my head and turn away to go home.

…

"What happened to you?" Christina asks as she burst through my bedroom door. I groan and roll over to face her from my bed.  
"Who let you in?" I ask, glaring.  
"Your mom, duh." She replies. "Now answer me! Where'd you go? Did you meet someone? What happened?" I groan again and sit up, leaning against the wall. Christina sits across from me on the bed, crossing her legs and propping her chin in her hands, waiting eagerly for my answer.  
"Nothing happened," I say with a shrug. "Not really." Christina gives me her I-don't-believe-you look and frowns.  
"Don't lie to me. Obviously something happened, considering you just left the club without saying goodbye or _anything._" She looks like she's about to say something else, but stops and waits for my reply.  
"Jeez Chris, why do you care so much? Especially so early in the day," I ask, glaring half-heartedly. "It's 9:30, you've had plenty of time to sleep!" Christina replies, crossing her arms. "I'm awake and I know you don't have a hangover or anything. Just tell me! Why are you hiding this from me?"  
"Because I don't feel like reliving it, maybe?" I admit. "It wasn't really a good thing that happened." Christina's face softens and her mouth forms an "o".  
"What happened?" She asks, quieter now. I sigh before saying anything.  
"You'll never guess who I ran into," I say, silently promising to make this story sound better than it had been. Christina narrows her eyes and is about to guess, but I didn't let her.  
"Peter. And his thugs." I say, and Christina scowls and makes a face. "Yeah. I was going out to get some air, because I was getting a headache." I pause, waiting for her reaction as I considered how to tell it.  
"Well, what happened?" She asks, eagerly waiting to hear what happened next. "Did you kick their butts?" I laugh and any tension that was there is gone.  
"They ended up cornering me, in the alley." I explain, leaving out how bad I was about to lose that fight. "But I grabbed a pipe and knocked Peter out."  
"What about Molly and Drew? Did they run screaming?" Christina asks.  
"Not exactly," I admit.  
"You took on both of them then?" She asks, eyes widening in surprise.  
"Not exactly," I repeat. Christina's eyebrows come together.  
"Well then what happened?" She asks, confused.  
"I tried to get them to leave, but Molly's too much of a hothead for that. She tried to tackle me, like some freaky football player." I tell her.  
"And?" Christina prompts, hanging on my every word.  
"I would've beat her, if someone else hadn't knocked her out first." I reply.  
"Who?" She practically yells. "Stop drawing this out and just tell me everything!"  
"I don't know who. Some guy with a weird nickname. But he finished off Molly, and had already beaten Drew." I shrug. Christina's eyes narrow.  
"Who? What was the nickname? I might know him." Christina asks. I laugh at her eagerness to know. It's true she might know him, she goes to that bar more often than me.  
"Four," I say, shrugging. "Weird nickname, right?" Christina doesn't smile or laugh like I expected.  
"Ugh, watch out for him. I met him last night too, at the bar. Someone else warned me off. He doesn't seem like a nice guy." She warns. I shrug.  
"Relax, it's not like he did anything. We don't even know any more than each other's names." I say, trying to calm the protective look in Christina's eyes.  
"Yeah, okay," Is all she says.  
"How about some breakfast?" I suggest, trying to change the subject. "Breakfast and then the mall?" Christina smiles instantly. I don't like going to the mall often, so the fact that I was suggesting it probably thrilled her.  
"Sure thing!" She says. "Get dressed and we'll head out!" I'm going to regret this, I think.

…

Christina and I sit at one of the many tables in the food court of the mall. She has at least five bags on the seat next to her, and she's smiling brightly. I have one small bag next to me; it holds a pair of earrings, small pearl buds, painted black, which Christina had convinced me to buy.  
"So what store do you want to go to?" Christina asks, taking a bite of the chinese food that sits between us. We decided we'd split it, since we'd had a large breakfast. "You haven't bought anything. Except those earrings, which I made you to buy." I shrug. She's right, but nothing I'd seen was anything I'd wanted.  
"I don't know, I guess I'm just not in a shopping mood." I say.  
"_You_ suggested coming here though! And how is it even possible that you're not in a shopping mood? When is it not a time to shop?" Christina asks incredulously.  
"Not everyone loves to shop as much as you do Christina." I point out, taking a bite of food. She rolls her eyes at me and says, "Well this is _not_ going to be a waste of a trip, got it? You're going to find something. A dress, a pair of shoes, something, _anything_. Understand?" I nod and smile.  
"Of course, I promise," I'm not sure if I'll find anything I like, but I will at least find something I can stand. After we finish eating, we gather our bags and head out again, heading to the side of the mall we hadn't been through that day. I'm only half paying attention to where we're going, and even though Christina's chattering away, I can't hear her. She doesn't notice though. I smile at her whenever she looks at me and she keeps on talking. We enter practically the first clothing store we pass, and I don't see the name of it. Christina instantly wants to try on some things, and I pretend to browse as I wait for her. Eventually I end up actually browsing, remembering my promise to Christina. That, and she was taking a very long time. I grab a dress off the rack and step back to hold it up, but instead I run into someone, causing me to drop the dress.  
"Sorry!" I say immediately, quickly picking up the dress and turning around.  
"Don't be, it was my fault." Behind me- well in front of me now- stands Four. The dress slips from my grip in my surprise. Of _course_ I would run into him again, I mean, what are the odds?  
"Oh! Hi," I greet, tucking my hair behind my ear. He smiles at me, then picks up the dress and holds it out to me.  
"I believe this is yours?" He says, I take it and manage a nervous laugh.  
"Yeah, thanks," I say, folding it over my arm.  
"I see you made it home okay," He remarks.  
"Yeah," I nod and shrug. "You did too." He laughs and smiles.  
"So what are you doing here?" I ask, curious. He looks alone, but I guess so do I. But, what _are_ the odds we'd run into each other? "Here as in this store, or here as in the mall?" He answers my question with a question, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.  
"Here as in the store," I clarify, waiting and becoming slightly impatient.  
"Honestly, I saw you come in," He says, shrugging. "I wanted to say hi." I narrow my eyes at him.  
"That's awful stalker like." I accuse flatly, only half joking. He laughs, and I realize I'm probably just being ridiculous. It was coincidence that we ran into each other, that's all. It was the mall and a Saturday. He probably lived nearby, like I did.  
"Sorry," I say before he can say anything, almost laughing. "That was rude. It's just coincidence, I'm sure."  
"How about you make it up to me by giving me your phone number?" He asks smoothly. I hesitate, although I want to. Christina didn't like Four, but she had heard it from someone else. And it wasn't like Christina was easy to make friends with either. For all I know, all Four did to get on her bad side was say hi the wrong way.  
"Or," Four continues, noticing my hesitation. "I can give you mine, and you can call me? Or text if you prefer."  
"That sounds good," I answer, nodding. I pull out my phone and enter his number as he says it, then smile at him and put my phone away. There's a moment of silence, then he says, "I like that dress, you should get it." I'm confused for a moment, then realize I'm still holding the dress I pulled off the rack. It's a casual, cotton, cap sleeve dress, with a scoop neck. It's got a blue neckline, and then a pattern of bird silhouettes in the same blue on white. There's a couple of decorative buttons at each hip, and from the waist down, the dress is pleated. It is a nice dress, which is why I was looking at it.  
"Maybe I will," I answer finally, looking up at him. He glances down at a watch on his wrist and almost frowns.  
"I've got to go," he sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'll see you around."  
"Yeah, see you," I reply. He nods at me and turns and leaves the store. I watch him until he's out of sight, and I jump when Christina speaks, right next to my ear.  
"Did you find something?" She asks, eyes hopeful. She obviously hadn't noticed Four. I smile and turn towards her and hold up the dress.  
"I think so!" I answer enthusiastically. "Not a waste of a trip after all!" I mean it in more ways than she knows.

**A/N: Well, what do you think so far? Good? Bad? Awful? Should I continue? The dress I described is something I found doing a random google search, here is the link if you wanna see what I was thinking!: shop/dresses/chic-commute-dress-in-birds?kpid=86181-NVYWT-L-REG&utm_term=86181&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign= .US_NB.X_Dresses_Prints&adc=pg_302_11020_52e042dae4b0d90931402db8_40168164009&gclid=CJXwkffrlb0CFYZcMgodlwgA_Q#  
Thanks for reading, and stay lovely~**


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